


Whims

by entanglednow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-13
Updated: 2008-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin tries to think up a scenario, but it's hard to create some sort of scenario for murder when the sun is making bits of grass dance over Arthur's shoulders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whims

"Damn it, Merlin!"

Arthur appears upside down over his head, a spear of shining armour and dancing specks of dust. He looks...he looks cross in a way which isn't really cross at all. No, it's definitely the pretend-cross that he wears like some sort of cloak he's become overfond of. It's not really working for Arthur today.

Perhaps it's the upside-down-ness that ruins any commanding air he might have been going for. Or perhaps it's the whimsical angle of midday sun that's currently making him look like a daisy.

Merlin pushes himself up to his elbows.

Arthur continues to stand there with his hands on his hips.

"You said you didn't need me for any small random, menial task," Merlin says slowly.

"I said I didn't need you, I _never_ said disappear completely."

Merlin tips his head back, stretches his neck out, he can still see Arthur's horse over the grass, he's twenty feet away at best.

"I wasn't hiding on purpose," Merlin offers.

"Good job too or I might have had to start hunting you." Arthur dumps his kit without paying attention, and Merlin knows he's going to have to go over the sword later to make absolutely certain there isn't the faintest nick in the blade. Then Arthur makes a noise like it's a terrible hardship, and sits down on the ground as well.

Merlin watches a grasshopper find his way between two blades of grass while Arthur tries to think of something imperious to say.

"You realise you're supposed to be on hand constantly, in case I want something."

Merlin looks up, tips his head sideways. "Did you want something?"

"That's not the point," Arthur tells him.

"So you didn't want anything?"

"I might have done," Arthur points out.

Merlin really hopes he loses that hint of petulance before he becomes king.

"So I really have to do everything you tell me to do?"

Arthur leans back on his elbow without checking the grass.

"Yes."

"Is that in the rules somewhere?" Merlin honestly doesn't think it is.

"It is actually."

Which is...completely unfair, mostly for him. No, entirely for him. Clearly the people writing these rules were not the people expected to be a party to the ridiculous whims of the rich.

"Well that's just perfect. You might tell me to jump off a cliff, or murder someone."

Arthur frowns at him. "Why on earth would I ask you to murder someone?"

"I don't know." Merlin tries to think up a scenario, but it's hard to create some sort of scenario for murder when the sun is making bits of grass dance over Arthur's shoulders.

It's a far too nice a day for murders.

"I wouldn't ask you to murder someone," Arthur says slowly, like he's an idiot.

There's a pause, Arthur sighs expansively, like he's doing him some sort of tremendous favour.

"Fine," Arthur says finally. "You're allowed to say no, _within reason_."

"Meaning you still have the right to humiliate me, whenever you feel it necessary for -" Merlin pretends to think about it for a minute. "My personal growth?"

"Of course, you can never have too much personal growth."

"I'm just trying to clarify what 'within reason' means?" Merlin tells him, because really his idea of 'within reason' and Arthur's are probably wildly different.

"You're a servant you're not allowed to _negotiate terms_."

"I was just trying to get a better idea of what's a ridiculous whim and what's important castle business. I'm just a servant I might not be able to tell after all."

Arthur doesn't laugh, but his face suggests he'd quite like to. " _I'll_ tell you the difference."

Merlin raises an eyebrow. "Oh that sounds _perfectly_ fair."

"I think I've been quite generous already," Arthur says tartly.

Merlin decides not to comment on that.

"Go on then, ask me to do something completely outrageous, so I can practice saying no to your ridiculous whims."

"I don't have ridiculous whims." Arthur's mouth is tipping towards annoyed but Merlin knows it's more for show than anything else. His face is still open, expression softer than the words would suggest.

"Everyone has ridiculous whims," Merlin protests. "They're just not normally in a position to get away with them." He pushes himself up higher, until he's not being frowned down at. Arthur has far too much practice making people feel less important than him already.

"Stop calling them ridiculous whims," Arthur says slowly.

Merlin is going to do nothing of the sort.

"Go on, ask me."

Arthur shakes his head. "You're being ridiculous."

Merlin shrugs. "I'm a servant I'm allowed to be ridiculous."

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "I don't think that's true you know."

"Ask me something," Merlin presses.

Arthur sighs and tips his head back, in his imperial 'I'm thinking' gesture and Merlin grins at it where Arthur can't see.

"Don't smile like that you look demented," Arthur says without looking at him.

Merlin rolls his eyes.

Arthur exhales, looks at him, there's a pause, a contemplation and Arthur opens his mouth like he's going to speak -

Merlin tips his chin up, waiting.

Arthur shuts his mouth just as quickly, and for an instant there's something in his expression, something guilty and then Merlin is squinting and tilting his head when Arthur shifts and lets the sun through in long painful streams.

He blinks spots away and Arthur's not looking at him now, mouth pressed into a thin, awkward line.

"Arthur?"

The sun dips in an out of his hair like it can't decide where to rest and when Arthur looks at him again he's frowning, a deep unhappy frown that's chased every inch of amusement off of his face.

"I don't have any, I told you before." This time the curve of annoyance on Arthur's face is genuine.

He stands up, smacks grass off of the back of his trousers, and picks up his kit in one angry movement, before disappearing in the direction of his horse.

Merlin frowns at the sky for a long, quiet handful of seconds.

There are a lot of wounded places inside Arthur and he suspects he's just hit one.

Though he's not quite sure how.


End file.
